A universe of Change: By candlelight Defiance

Chapter Thirteen

Starbase Laberre:

"Are there any weapons that we can use in our battle?" Garrett asked. "As much as it disturbs me, we're outnumbered and fighting against a vicious, aggressive enemy who has no concept of mercy and considers us little more than food."

"War is something I would prefer not to engage in anymore," Picard slowly mentioned. "However, with the near destruction of Earth, the siege oof Minbar, and other incursions," such as Centauri Prime, he thought, "throughout the sectors, I concur. We need something to balance this equation. Earthforce is decimated. They are rebuilding, but at their current level of technology, they cannot withstand another attack. Unlike Minbar, Earth was targeted specifically for destruction. I believe the Shadow plague and that humanity, in their eyes, has resisted destruction, has placed Earth as a high priority target to be removed. In light of the Klingon, Drazi, Proxima alliance and the technological innovations, I am inclined to acquiesce to their request for a formal, if limited, technological transfer." A bit of humor brushed his eyes. "Our newly signed treaty certainly eases some of our doubts concerning Earth Alliance. this might extend to some of the members of the non-aligned worlds who are in as much danger as Earth and Minbar are."

"I'm surprised the Abbai haven't been attacked yet," added Geordie. "They are certainly closer to the Sinhindrea forces, and they are a water-rich world. That makes them a very tempting target, and they know it."

Picard nodded. "The Abbai are not yet a priority target. The Sinhindrea are focusing on the strongest governments right now." But he acknowledged the Abbai's precarious position and added them to the list. "Another problem we will have to address. However, the use of the mines will minimize any attacks on those worlds and give us all the time to prepare our offensive and defensive preparations. We are already behind the times. The Sinhindrea had sent probing forces and several fleets towards our sector at least six months ago. That was before Shakiri and his fleet arrived at Z'Ha'Dum. If we calculate that it took Shakiri four months to get arrive at Dum, battle for an hour maybe less, and flee, taking another minimum of four months to return home. We calculate that they were already on their way during their battles with the Shadows."

"They were that confident," Garrett grumbled. "They didn't consider the Shadows a long-term threat."

"Yes. And that would account for them attacking Minbar and us so quickly. Things changed for all of us when Voyager mined the artifact. That triggered their fears. Humanity is seen as someone who can hurt them, and they wanted to get rid of any competition for their dominance."

"Concerning the level of technology, we can give the EA; I've been thinking about this for a while. What we've given B5 is good to start off. It's a good compromise for them and is just advanced enough that they will have to study the science and not just copy and paste. Proxima is equivalent and if they share with Earth some of their technologies and sciences, the others can catch up quickly to B5's level, which is about one hundred and twenty years or so behind us. Our own technology is boosted by another twenty years and Mister Crusher's theories and discoveries give us another edge. As for B5, the two Alamo Type Seven battle satellites are up and running and protecting B5. The mines are active throughout the system, and Laberre is closer to B5, acting as a primary line of defense. The civilians and both stations will have better close-in protection."

"If EarthDome agrees, and I think they will, then they will accept the mines in Sol system," Archer added. "I can see them skittish about that. There is one problem that we can deal with and will benefit everyone. We can build the particle synthesizer and program it to create a counter to the Sinhindrea calcium destroyer weapon. Current replicator technology can't reproduce the drug. The systems are too advanced for us to build, not without a lot of time and effort, although we can research them and download the schematics. What is useful is that the drug can act as a preventative that can counter the calcium deprivation portion of the weapon.

"Other than that, I don't think that even with our current level of knowledge, we could create those weapons the other federation developed to counter the Sinhindrea attack forces. I do think that the particle synthesizer-replication system will really help us. It can cut down our ship building by a third once it is up and running. We can also use it to create and modify the anti-calcium inhibitor drug needed, tailoring it for each species."

"The drug clearly has its limitations," Archer added. "It offers some protection against the biogenic effects of the weapons. It doesn't replace the bone and cartilage but cancels the effects of the beam's calcium destroying activity. Dr. Phlox told me that your medical sciences are advanced enough to have created artificial cells that can replace those cells as needed. We know that the effect of the weapon continues long after the target is hit. Many of those victims suffered the effects for as long as an hour, no matter where they were hit." He grimaced. "It's a weapon of terror, pure and simple. The drug can be reproduced and replicated with the particle synthesizer unit, but not with a replicator. The PS works on a quantum level, which current replicators cannot do, that makes our development of the PS units critical. It can also create a synthetic dilithiumn crustal that we can use. My studies indicate that it isn't as good as natural dilithiumn, but it is useful, and replicators can't replicate dilithiumn well enough for starship use, and several other critical drugs and materials we use."

"Doctor Phlox is acclimating well to the new medical advances here. Many of our crew from the Bozeman are recovering from the injuries that occurred during our transition. Some of my crew's injuries were too severe, but their quality of life will be a lot better." There was a small note of sadness as he said those words. It could have been and was worse for them onboard. At least, now they could function better.

"He is now part of a research group studying osteo-chondroid formation and development, to regenerate bone and cartilage loss from the effects of the biogenic weapon. He seems pleased at the research project and the human and Minbari researchers he is working with."

That project was massive. The bioweapon was a feared weapon. and several research groups were devoted to countering the weapon's effects. Bone research was a primary concern. But cellular research specializing in other parts of the body, which were affected by the calcium depletion, was also ongoing.

"The temporal computer has several references that may be useful in developing counteragents. But only the particle synthesizer can accurately create those drugs. That and the dilithium are other reasons that we should invest time to understand and build the synthesizers."

"Another research project," Picard mused. "Dilithiumn is another item on our lists. Our long-range sensors discovered some deposits in nearby systems, but we haven't had the time to go and mine for it. When we convert to zero-point energy modules, our need for it will decrease, but we are nowhere near that point yet, and this war will place our already stress resources to the limit. We are running out of people, and we need time to train our new recruits."

"Yes, that's a problem and at the worst possible time," Jon muttered. "We all know the Sinhindrea are a major problem." He sighed before continuing. The last thing he wanted to do was to depress everyone, but he had to explain to them what they were all in for. I've read the histories of the Sinhindrea wars back at home. Hundreds of worlds were destroyed in the three major wars which the Federation and the allies fought. We are fortunate here that their colony was cut when it was. The really big system killers didn't make it through before the gate was destroyed. According to history, the Sinhindrea originated from a stellar cluster adjacent to the milky Way. That cluster was separated by three million light-years from the main galaxy. The Sinhindrea decimated that entire satellite cluster. Over a period of a millennium, thousands of worlds and thousands of species were wiped out. The races of the cluster came together and drove the Sinhindrea close to extinction. They did this three times, but never, and I hate to say this, they never finished exterminating that species. That act of mercy cost them as the Sins returned and killed untold billions. The last time, the surviving races created huge, kilometer-long robotic machines that literally attacked Sinhindrea controlled planets, cutting those worlds apart and using the remains for fuel. Those cone-shaped robotic ships were practically unstoppable. Their hulls were composed of solid neutronium. Their cutting beams were pure anti-proton based. Starfleet still didn't know how those ships were made, even in the 29th century. Thousands of Sinhindrea worlds and colonies were destroyed and consumed before they were stopped. Evidently, the Sins were able to destroy them, but at great cost. those weapons slowed down their migrations for several thousand years. It wasn't enough to save the species that created the robot devices. They're extinct, destroyed by the Sins. Whatever was left of those planet killers were either destroyed or roaming around still mindlessly destroying entire star systems.

"That reminds me of something that happened a while ago, but I can't seem to place it," Geordie said out loud. He was still getting used to having normal sight. Voyager's holo-graphic doctor performed a surgery that cloned his eyes and regenerated his optic nerve. He didn't need the visor anymore. No more pain, real sight. He was very happy with the results.

"I seem to remember something about a planet killer," Rachel also said. She would look it up in the data banks later.

"With the Earth Alliance contingent, we're only going to have about fifteen thousand troops. With the NKDs, that's another fifteen thousand. It's just a drop in the bucket," Tucker added. "How many soldiers do the Minbari have, eight to ten million boots on the ground?" he calculated. "They don't dare attack in mass, not with those Sinhindrea warships in orbit."

"We are small," Picard said. "Our people are contributing twenty-five hundred out of three thousand marines. We, all of us, are sending a message: Starfleet is few in numbers, but we are there, and we support the Minbari despite the challenges that we have endured. Together, we are stronger, and we will support each other. This is a political statement that will reach the hearts of our allies and everyone else. We will not fight alone."

Trip and Tucker were nodding. They understood the stakes all too well. "I would like to volunteer to accompany you on this mission, Captain Sisko," Malcolm Reed announced. "I was chief of security and tactical officer on my Enterprise. I can be of some help in logistics, if nothing else."

Sisko didn't hesitate for a second. "Glad to have you. We're leaving in three days. I suggest you become familiar with the newer weapons and systems. The holodeck training simulations will bring you up to speed quickly, but you won't have a lot of time."

"I'll be ready, sir."

"I know," Ben answered.

The meeting continued for another hour. Plans were developed, and the marines informed of the impending mission. Everyone was acutely aware of the firestorm they were about to encounter.

The Feds' resources were being depleted. A ravaged Earth Alliance was close to their elections and the politicians there hadn't wanted to cancel them, not even with the political and military situations changing daily. President Luchenko didn't want to be accused of trying to stay in office using the war as an excuse. She refused to postpone it.

"Before the strike by the Sinhindrea at Earth, both Senator Bruce Wells and Pieter Sternbeck had thrown in their hats and ran for presidency for Earth Alliance. Sternbeck had since pulled out of the race, throwing his support behind Luchenko's bid. For reelection. Senator Wells, flushed with funds from several very powerful corporate syndicates, three military corporations, and some independent private organizations, and running behind in the polls, double-down in his criticism of the Federation and the NKD union, especially with Earth Alliance recognizing Proxima's independence. But he wasn't a fool. His agenda subtly changed from outright hostility to a more forceful approach for unification of humanity, be it Earth Alliance, Proxima, and Federation, and it included the aliens involved who wanted to be Alliance citizens.

Close to two billion now dead, another two billion suffering from various stages of blindness, radiation poisonings, homelessness, and once-eliminated diseases rearing their ugly heads, and Wills was on every medium, screaming about the horrors of the loss of unity with Proxima deserting humanity and all but implying that he would pull them back into the fold and make them return to their rightful place with Earth Alliance, wasn't working. He now adapted a gentler approach, claiming that his vast experience could be able to pull Earth safely through this latest crisis.

The man continued to complain about the Starfleet squatters, as he called them, who were too powerful to remain independent, and needed to join with Earth Alliance, and not be treated as an independent entity who wouldn't follow the rules. He still complained that they were too powerful, and their independence would fracture Earth Alliance during a time when unity was absolutely critical. But he did stress that the Federationists were very useful and had helped save Earth in a time of war. He stopped blaming them for everything that had happened and even admitted that the Federationists aided Earth Alliance scientists in discovering the cure for the Shadow plague, although EA researchers could have easily done it without their help.

He also admonished Proxima III for their rebellion against their fellow humans and not rejoining the Alliance. They're helping in Earth's time of need was proof that they wanted to rejoin, but their government was being recalcitrant, not considering the will of the people, and inciting other colonies to turn away from their rightful government. His arguments were not enough to sway the vast majority of people in these last weeks of campaigning.

But corporate funds were flowing into his campaign even faster in a desperate bid to aid his election for President. Corporate sponsors were terrified of the upcoming war, but they were more terrified of losing their profits to Proxima and the Federation. Earth's economy was in shambles but recovering quicker than anyone imagined without corporate aid, and that was something they could not abide. Proxima II and III and Babylon Five were their adversaries, but that didn't stop the CEOs and their families from trying to set up offices and emigrating to those places. A few were eyeing Laberre carefully for possible opportunities, even as they spat on the Federation Starfleeter's names.

President Luchenko's political ads were to the point of refuting the man's ambitions. She also noted that the senator was on Babylon Five and had no interests in returning to Earth. His statements insisting that Proxima wanted to return to the fold, proven by the fact that the colony was personally helping Earth in its time of crisis free of charge, was based on the assumption that the people were ignorant of the facts. It was a lie, of course, and he conveniently omitted the

signed treaty.

Luchenko's ads clarified the lies and her comments resonated with many people on Earth and the EA colonies. And the polls reflected that fact.

If Wills won and became President, Picard would deal with him accordingly. If necessary, the treaty between the EA and the Federation would be nullified. As things stood now, Wills knew that they needed Starfleet. Afterwards, if they survived, he would revisit their relationship and Picard determined to be ready.

President Susan Luchenko wasted no time preparing to help Minbar. Like the Federation and the NKD government, this was a political opportunity not to be ignored. Wells would not have ordered her military to do what she was about to order. In fact, it was a political gamble that could easily backfire and cost her the Presidency. The alternative, however, was worse. Minbar needed assistance, and it needed to know that humanity, both branches, would support them despite their previous antagonisms. Minbar could not be allowed to fall. Earth rejected their requests once before and she had no intentions of repeating that mistake. The reasoning at that time was numerous and valid, but the rejection had a political cost she was not willing to pay again. Earth couldn't afford it.

She was deep in thought when her Secretary of State called her. Shaking off her train of thought, she had General Franklin come in into the office. The man looked tired, and she knew why.

"Madame President."

President Susan Luchenko saw the strain on General Franklin's face, and she knew why. That look was on far too many faces in her Administration and throughout the world. "How is your family doing?" she asked before anything else.

The man was surprised by her concern. He hadn't expected her to ask about his surviving children and grandchildren. At that moment. He'd forgotten that Luchenko wasn't Clark. The plague took one of his daughters and three grandchildren.

The Shadow plague weakened Earth's population, but many people hadn't survived, dying of starvation, thirst and minor diseases that their plague weakened immune systems couldn't fight against. The Drakh bombed the west coast of North America and sterilized a portion of China's population during that day of furious fighting and radiation was taking its toll. The population of Earth was affected, and members of his family were no exceptions. He lost two more daughters and their families when the Sinhindrea dropped their plasma bomb near Texas. His family, along with hundreds of millions of people, died that day. Most of Franklin's family was gone now and the man honestly couldn't decide whom he hated more, the Drakh or the Sinhindrea.

"Regina and her family, and Steven are doing well," he answered. The Proxima support made the difference for them and a lot of others. "Steven is doing well at Babylon Five and I am proud to say that he is becoming one of the premier doctors of our times."

And he meant it.

"I'm glad to hear that," the President responded. There was nothing else to say. The man was grieving, like so many others.

The whole world grieved. However, now was time to strike back.

Senator Wells was correct. Everybody needed to unify, and not just the humans. But his approach was dangerously haphazard, and now wasn't the time for his petty power grab. "General Franklin, I am activating our QRF on Beta Durani. In forty-eight hours, I want them ready for transport. They will head to Minbar to assist ground forces there. There will be room for fifteen thousand. Tell them to load everything they can. I don't have to tell you this is a critical mission," she stressed. "I understand that there are still bad feelings among the GROPOS, and special forces against the Minbari. If there are bad feelings about going, then I don't want them there. Remove them from this mission. This is going to be a hard mission, and I do not want any service people there that cannot hold themselves to the highest ideals of Earthforce. If anyone feels that cannot conduct themselves in a manner that reflects the pride of humanity, then I don't want them there."

To his credit, Richard Franklin's eye only twitched once. The man was loyal to a fault. He followed Clark's orders and before that President Levy's during the Dilgar war. His loyalty was not to be questioned. He went against his own son during the Minbari Earth war when Steven refused to give medical data that could have changed the war in Earth Alliance's favor. Steven refused to give them the data, claiming that he would not allow his information to be used for biological warfare. Franklin couldn't understand his son and violently disagreed with its morals in light of the genocidal attack by the Minbari.

He didn't trust the Minbari, but he would not allow his personal emotions to interfere with his duty and he understood the mission's importance. Nevertheless, it was his duty to point out the obvious. ": yes, Ma'am. Madame President, fifteen thousand men and women are not going to make much difference. We estimate the Minbari have more than five million warriors on site, and that's a conservative estimate. They don't like humans, and their technology is better than ours. They won't like us on their home world. When we get there, they may not allow us to set foot on their planet."

She nodded. "I understand. We are making a statement." She sighed and then straightened. "The Grey Council has asked for help, and we are giving it. Truthfully, we can afford it. Our ground forces are not going to be useful when those monsters come back. Their intentions are clear. They want to destroy our world. On Minbar we can help, even if it is only a fraction. The Narn and Drazi are sending an equal number of soldiers. The Federation is sending two-thirds of their marines. We're a small contingent, but we will make those monsters pay for what they have done to us," she announced. She made no intentions of hiding her hatred for those things. "No matter what my feelings for the Minbari are, I will not have them fall to the Sinhindrea."

Franklin straightened up and saluted. "Permission to go with my troops, Madame President."

"Permission granted, if you can get there in time," she said.

That was a problem. "Yes, Ma'am. If he wanted to be with his troops, then he would have to ask his son for a favor. Otherwise, he would be weeks behind his outfit, and he needed to be with them. Would the Feds help him?

He hoped so.

The president handed him a data crystal. "Your orders, General."

He saluted and left.

General Franklin took the time to read his orders was shocked, but only mildly so. There were so many things had changed in the last three years that he was becoming somewhat jaded. The Storm Breaker transport did come as a surprise. It wasn't Starfleet but native science, a product of the great machine with a few additions added. The Great Machine of Epsilon did make him huff in frustration. It was another lost opportunity for Earth Alliance. If only they could have gotten to that fantastic device first! But the Minbari beat them to it and B5 hadn't been helpful in protecting Earth's interests. Ultimately, the Minbari got the prize and that galled him, but perhaps it was for the best. He didn't even want to imagine Clark in charge of something that powerful, and it was very useful, in a positive way, in the scheme of things. Still, humans should have had control of it.

Three round trips or six transits through what was being called fold space. He barely understood hyperspace physics, let alone warp or super warp ala Voyager. How they were coming up with these new sciences was beyond him, but he didn't care. That wasn't his problem.

His support staff surrounding him were busy preparing to jumpstart the logistics. It was daunting, but doable.

"Beta Durani, Narn, the Drazi home world, Minbar. That's four trips," Colonel Mundar said. "If this works, we'll have only two trips in reserve, and it will be for naught if we cannot get inserted into orbit safely. The Sinhindrea will kill us all within a minute."

"The plan is sound," Franklin said. "If the Klingons can do their job, we won't have to worry about those ships in orbit."

"That's a big if, sir."

Franklin nodded. "If it fails, we will never feel it," he said. He wasn't a praying man, but he found himself thinking hard about it now. For his family's sake, and for all of the rest, it had to work. "Who is in command at Beta Durani?"

Major Batsai, an older man with cold eyes, answered. "Colonel Bernadette Garnier, sir."

"I don't know her," Franklin muttered. "Get me her dossier," he ordered. He wanted to find out a little about the officer before he spoke to her in the next half hour. "I want a channel to Laberre. I want to speak to whoever is in charge."

He needed a favor.

Beta Durani

Earthforce station Twelve HQ

Colonel Garnier received confirmation of her orders less than an hour later. She was surprised. Her forces were going to Minbar to help fight against those aliens that savaged her home. The Colonel was issuing orders before she finished reading her own. Fourteen thousand of her finest were about to join the Narn, Drazi, and the Starfleeter forces to help stop the Sinhindrea from killing everyone on Minbar. General Franklin would be her commanding officer. He was getting up there in age, but the man was still sharp as ever, she thought. They would need his expertise and experience when they made it to the front.

As she read through the info packet, she understood that her fourteen thousand troops were going to need everything they had when they contacted the enemy. Fourteen thousand weren't going to be enough. If the others had an equal number added to the mix, it still wouldn't be enough. Orders didn't detail how long they would be on the planet, but they assumed the worst and would prepare accordingly. She reserved one thousand med techs for the mission. They would certainly be needed, especially if the rumors were true. Bone-destroying weapons, plasma weapons, and walking armored tanks for infantry. What a nightmare. Her command staff were filing in now, waiting for her.

A total of fifteen thousand Earth Alliance soldiers on Minbar fighting against aliens that made the Vorlons run without a fight!

"Listen everyone, we have a mission," she told them. Someone whispered "finally," but she ignored it as she continued speaking. "We will be a part of a combined strike force. Our objective, assist the Minbari in freeing their home from the Sinhindrea invading their planet, the same aliens that attacked Earth and killed everyone on Mars."

She immediately felt the excitement and tension among the officers filling the room. The Earthforce Marine Corps ground troops, or GROPOS as they were called, felt a collective impotence for the last several years while Earthforce space command took the brunt of the fighting. There were struggles against Centauri, the Starfleeters, the Drakh, and the Sinhindrea. None of them involved ground forces. Now, they were about to fight against an enemy they knew little about, alongside allied alien soldiers whose capability they knew nothing about. The military forces of the Narn and Drazi didn't impress anyone in the room. They were brave, but by Earthforce standards, their tactics were abysmal.

"I want you to read and memorize the reports on the Sinhindrea. I cannot stress the dangers of fighting these aliens," she said in her heavy French accent. "They are telepathic, and one of their tactics will be to convince their enemies they are your friends. We know they consume their victims like pastries. They are a tough, armored multi-legged species we cannot ascribe human emotions to. According to the reports, mercy is a non-existent concept. They do not surrender, they take no prisoners, except as food. These aliens are water-based lifeforms and if you engage them in any liquid environment, you will be poisoned. These aliens secrete neurotoxins in water that will paralyze you and break down organic tissue. The toxin's effect is under a minute according to the Federation of Planets data." Those words produce a lot of muttering. She continued for another half hour.

"This is our first time our military forces will be on Minbar. Although our war has been long over, there are bad feelings between our two species." Her voice started dropping. "In case you are not aware of it, this is a political statement as well as a fight. The Minbari have never allowed humans to set foot on their world, not even the Starfleeters."

"Especially not them," the same person muttered.

"Enough, Captain," she snapped, glaring at the man, who quietly acknowledge the unspoken threat. "We need to be at our best. If there are any doubts about any of your men and women under your command, then remove them from this mission. This includes yourselves."

Before she could continue, she was interrupted. "Will the Federation send soldiers on this mission?"

"They will assist with twenty-five hundred marines."

"Twenty-five hundred?" Lieutenant commander Thompson clarified. "That's all? What are they going to do, drive us around digging latrines while we do the real fighting?"

Colonel Garnier glared at him. Thompson and some others in her command had, on more than a few occasions, expressed little more than contempt for the so-called colonists. Two of Thompson's family members died in the initial fighting at Babylon Five during the first contact. He never forgot and made his opinion about the human traitors, known to everyone. Like most of those stationed on the rock, his information about the Starfleeters was limited. He didn't have any personal contact with the Feds and former President Clark kept information about them to a minimum. This was the deceased president's standard operating procedure. Most of the outlier Earthforce bases were isolated, partially out of fear of a Federation invasion or the Centauri at the time. Orbital bombardment was their greatest fear.

Rumors about Federation terror torpedoes generated fear throughout the ground-based units. Isolation and secrecy remained paramount. The Centauri, the Drakh, the Shadows, and now the Sinhindrea forced Earthforce to keep the policy in place. The isolation didn't keep the rumors from running rampant. The Starfleeters were rumored to be from another universe, but the average person didn't believe it. They had to be from some long, long-lost colony who joined with aliens for mutual survival, making those humans, in effect, aliens. A lot of politicians had it right. That small group of people couldn't be trusted unless they submitted to the authority of Earth Alliance, which they wouldn't do. They weren't traitors, but they were rebels.

If the home world colony of the Federation was ever discovered, it was assumed that the GROPOS would hit the Feds bases of operations and set things straight. It would have been a tough fight, but they had no doubts that they would prevail.

None of the ground forces denied the power of Starfleet's space vessels, but their soldiers were a different story, and a lot of the marines wanted to prove themselves against them, and do what the space forces couldn't, as they had with the Minbari during the war. The Minbari ground forces were better equipped, but time and time again, the warriors were humiliated by EF's superior tactics and logistics.

"I don't know what they are bringing to the table," Garnier told them. "But if they and their equipment are in any way comparable to their ships, we will welcome them with open arms, won't we, Commander?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he answered.

"If not, then we will show them how it's done. They may just learn something."

War was war, but those overrated colonists and aliens should have never interfered in the first place. Twenty-five hundred was nothing. When the fighting started, he would impress on them to stay out of his way.

Starbase Laberra

It was called The Captain's Table, not because it was, but because all four Federation Captains had chosen to sit there more often than not. Sometimes when Sheridan and c few of the Sheridan, or a few Earth Alliance captains joined them, but tonight this was for the Federation Starfleet officers only. As before, it began with silence. But there was a difference. A weight seemed to have been lifted from Picard. He seemed more settled. At least in some things. He was in his element, and it showed. But like all things, being in one's element was fleeting.

"Where are the klingons when you need them?" Garrett muttered, much to Picard's chagrin and intense stares. She just smiled mischievously. After a moment, the man almost smiled back, realizing what she was doing. She acted so innocent as she bit into her chicken… just like a piranha. It was little wonder that he lost as many arguments as he won.

"The Klingon…"

"Worf," Sisko clarified.

"Yes, him," Picard acknowledged. "He said that they would lay the mines in Minbar's orbit," Picard grumbles. He didn't like the idea of giving one of Starfleet's most important military secrets into the hands of those creatures, but it seemed that he didn't have much choice. But just because he had to, didn't mean he had to like it. If there was some other way to do it, he would make that choice in a heartbeat.

"I am not pleased that we have to trust the klingons to deliver transphasic mines to the planet. I shudder to think what would happen if they reneged on their promise."

"As far as I've seen since being here, they haven't done anything that could cause me to distrust them. They have been most helpful in their way," Jon said. "The Klingons can be a handful, but the ones here have not caused any trouble for us. They've been helpful to the Narn, Drazi, and Proxima III, and the budding colony on Proxima II."

Picard's eyes grew colder as his voice lowered to a harsh whisper. "Captain Archer, the ones here are tolerable, but a word of advice. Never trust them. They are Klingons. You have no idea what they've done. You have no idea what they are."

"Captain Picard, you are wrong," Jon said, matching his coldness. "I understand the Klingons quite well. You know my history. I was condemned by them. I helped them and they tried to kill me for my trouble. The Duras clan of my time tried to destroy my Enterprise and prevent me from saving Earth," he snapped back. "I also made friends with some of them and discovered that they weren't the stereotypes I believed them to be. They were dangerous, touchy, and treacherous to deal with, but I also began to understand them. Do you think working with the Vulcans in those days was easy? No," he said. answering his own question. "It wasn't. Ask Commander T'Pol over there. Let's not talk about the Andorians, and don't forget the Romulans," he growled. "And they don't have the corner on treachery. All we have to do is study Colonel Green."

Picard looked at him. "Are you attempting to judge me, Captain Archer?" How dare this man make presumptions about him!

"You can barely stand to use Worf's name without cursing. I saw the recordings between you and Captain Drake. He hated you." Archer said. "You're acting the same way about the Klingons and you're not even trying to change. I do understand how you feel."

"Captain, you know nothing of my feelings about them," Picard snapped back.

"Don't I? I know the hatred you feel, because I had the same feelings about the Xindi. They intended to destroy Earth and there was only one ship capable of stopping them. Mine."

"Do you know how many of my crew died in the process? How many violations of the future Prime Directive did I ignore? How do you think I felt when the Andorians stabbed me in the back during the most important mission in my life? How do you think I felt when I had to ally myself with other Xindi to save our world? What do you think it was like when I learned about the bigger picture? What do you think it was like when, just as we were in sight of home, we wind up in another universe in a crippled ship, a Federation ship, produced by an organization that I had nothing to do with although the name Archer is credited with its birth?" Archer glared at a still fuming but slightly less belligerent Picard.

"The point is everyone thinks of you as the Admiral of Starfleet. But you constantly brush it off since I've been here. You can't control your anger against a people who are not your enemies and if you can't, then maybe you shouldn't be Admiral, even if we want you to be. You have the qualifications, but do you have the strength to fight against the demons that no longer exist in this universe, because God knows we have enough new ones here, that we don't need to dwell on the Old Ones."

Jean-Luc Picard was livid. No one at his station spoke to him like that. He felt humiliated because Captain Archer dressed him down in front of the others instead of doing so privately. He was embarrassed because it was true. He hadn't addressed the Klingon. Worf by name. He barely addressed Commander Worf from the other universe by name. Even now, his blood boiled thinking about that Klingon wearing a Federation uniform as if he were worthy.

He hated the very idea, but it was him, not the others.

It was him.

Picard saw it in their eyes. None of the others had said anything, but they silently agreed with Jonathan Archer, and that brought about a fresh wave of anger and feelings of betrayal.

And those feelings and thought triggered other memories he had pushed back into the recesses of his mind. It was he who insisted on going back home, refusing to believe that they couldn't return. He would have ignored the opinions of the others. Would they have rebelled against his orders?

He knew the answer, and he knew a part of him would have gone against their wishes, anyway. It was his fault that it took so long for them to build a base of operations because he was the one who resisted the idea.

As angry as he was, he knew Archer had a point. It was so easy to condemn Captain Drake's anger of him, a man whose stone-cold hatred burned like radiation, and ignore his own weaknesses. Whatever his feelings were, he was working through it.

Worf and Commander Worf were the enemy, but they weren't. Worf was just as trapped as he was, twinned as it were, from a universal timeline that no longer existed, and even he had adjusted better than Picard had. Commander Worf respected him, and in the process shamed him.

His own silence and stubbornness appeared to be his greatest enemy.

"Do you agree with his observations?" Picard asked Rachel.

"He does have some valid points, Captain Picard," she answered him in her professional manner. He knew was her official stance. She didn't want to hurt him, but her answer disheartened him. He didn't have her support.

"And you, Captain Sisko?"

"Yes," he bluntly answered. "Captain Garrett has seniority, but we look at you as the future admiral of our Starfleet, a position you have rejected several times. I believe you're holding back in hopes that we will return home. We can't go back unless we choose to cease to exist. This is our home now. You've said it in your mind, but you still don't believe it and that belief is holding us back. We need you, all of you."

"We have a total of five ships and less than ten thousand people. We lost one ship, and we are building two more. But we have lost trained personnel, including Commander Riker and his crew. We will lose more when we go to Minbar. The Bozeman is crippled, and not worth salvaging. We've just begun our recruitment and officer exchange program and that is being cancelled because Earthforce desperately needs experienced officers and crew to begin rebuilding as fast as possible. LA and Peking were nuked by the Drakh and the Sinhindrea poisoned the planet using that plasma bomb. The point is, we are all suffering and as much as we have all lost, we need to move forward. We have the crew of the Bozeman and most of them have signed up. That helps a bit. You're aware of the political situation, so I respectfully ask that you give the Klingons some slack. If we want them to be true allies, both sides will have to earn it. They are trying. Are we?"

"Picard's face looked harder than stone. The man was not happy. It took him a full minute before he was able to speak.

"I will consider it."

After this meeting was over, he would talk to Guinan and Rachel. He dreaded it, but resolved to do it.

God help them all.

This is a bit longer than I intended for ths chapter but I decided to add some of 14 into this to keep the flow. Thanks to all. we are getting close to the Minbari war of liberation, which may not be as liberating as we think...